Just Another Day
by damageddementia
Summary: When the WWE comes to his hometown, he decides to finally get revenge on his greatest enemy, the Heartbreak Kid. However, his 'foolproof' plans have a few holes in them. Crack fic!
1. Just Another Day

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own the following wrestlers, or any of the events that actually happened on camera, or anything recognizable.**

**I respect the actual beliefs and sexualities of the following wrestlers.**

**Yeah, this be a crackfic. I wrote this when I was bored, thinking about Bugs Bunny and the Pepe Le Pew cartoons. I like everyone in this fic; I'm not making fun of anyone. Well, maybe I am a little, but it's all in good fun.**

**Just Another Day**

_Shawn Michaels,_ he thought, lip curling in disgust.

The WWE and, thus, his most hated enemy, Shawn Michaels, were returning here, to his home town. That meant one thing: another opportunity to exact some much deserved revenge on the arrogant little twat rag. And now, he was sure his plan was foolproof; there was no chance Shawn Michaels would escape retribution.

By the end of the night, the Harping-Bitch Kid would be attacked, and no one would even know that this man had anything to do with it.

* * *

Chris Irvine was in the shower, singing _Barbie Girl_ at the top of his lungs. Usually, Chris had great taste in music, but there was something about being in the shower that gave him the taste of a retarded mall rat. Paul Wight hated it with his whole being, but, if he argued, Chris would yell at him in words that were so long that Paul wasn't even sure they were still English.

"Uh, Chris?" Chris didn't hear him; he was still singing that damned song. "Chris, I'm going out for my match with Hunter." Chris didn't stop singing. "Faggy little queen," Paul said, under his breath, as he left.

Fifteen minutes later, Chris finally deemed himself clean enough that the eyes of the legion of gluttonous troglodytes that made up the WWE fan base would explode upon impact. He dried himself up, combed his hair- made himself perfect. He could nearly feel their beady little eyes swelling, unable to take the perfection that is Chris Jericho.

As he reached for his wrestling trunks, he noticed a package lying on top of them. Curiously, he grabbed it. He knew plenty of the sycophantic mouth breathers salivated over his very presence, but few had the wherewithal to actually send him a gift. He opened it and squealed with delight.

Glitter! It was called Sparklepyre, and it was the prettiest, most eye popping glitter he'd ever seen. He clapped with enthusiasm before opening it; he had to put the prettyful sparklies on his trunks. He had time, after all, and it would only take a few minutes.

************

"Shawn!" Shawn looked up and saw Stephanie there, holding a clipboard. "Five minutes until Chris' promo before your match. Where is the loudmouth anyway?"

Shawn shrugged. "Probably reading a thesaurus to slap us with more words we have no right understanding."

"Check his locker room. He's on in five!"

Shawn sighed, not wanting to get up, but then he saw Dolph Ziggler and Matt Hardy going over their match that night. "Hardy!" Shawn shouted, "Go get Jericho! ASAP!"

"What am I, your slave?" Matt retorted, "Fuck you; go get him yourself."

"Well, Jeff's gone, and Jeff was my bitch before, so... seeing as you're a Hardy, you should take his place," Shawn reasoned.

"Go to hell Shawn."

"Hardy, go get Chris," Stephanie said, rolling her eyes.

Matt grumped as he stood up. Shawn giggled and said, "But you're HER bitch!" Dolph tried to laugh too, but Matt hit him upside the head before walking to Chris' locker room.

He knocked on the door. "Jericho?" he called out, "Chris, your promo's next! Chris-"

"Listen, you bottom feeding-" Chris started, but, as soon as he opened the door, the words died on his lips. He looked at Matt, who he had seen many times in the past, but it was like he was seeing him for the first time. He unconsciously licked his lips and said, "Hi Matt."

Matt, feeling uncomfortable under Chris' scrutiny, said, "You're on like, now..."

"That can wait." Matt's bewildered expression made Chris chuckle as he grabbed Matt's arm and tried to pull him into his locker room.

"It's like, three minutes from now," Matt said, yanking his arm from Chris' grasp.

"Well, who really cares?" Suddenly, Matt was against the wall, Chris pinning him and looking him over again. _That's it, Chris officially went nuts. Why the hell is he looking at me like that?_

Matt hit Chris' head with his own and, with Chris momentarily dazed, he ran off. "Matt, wait!" Chris shouted. Chris chased after him, and Matt ran faster. "Matt, I'm not going to hurt you!"

Finally, Matt reached Dolph and Shawn. Hunter had joined them, his match against The Big Show just ending. "Where's Chris?" Shawn asked, his hands going to his hips. "Were you too stupid to find-"

"Save me!" Matt hid behind Hunter, who had no idea what was going on.

"Matt?" Chris said, catching up. "Matt?"

"Chris, you have to go on stage n-" Shawn began, but Chris said, "Where's Matt?"

"You have a promo-" Hunter tried, but then Chris said, "Matt. Where is he?"

"Chris, just do your-" Next thing Dolph knew, just for trying to help, he was on the floor, Chris' hands around his neck. He sputtered for breath, trying to peel the fingers off his neck, but to no avail.

CLONK! Chris fell on top of Dolph, completely unconscious. Shawn was holding a sledgehammer in his hand, which he obviously hit Chris with. "What the hell's going on, Matt?"

Matt wrapped his arms around Shawn, completely grateful. "I don't know," he said, "I don't know."

************

Chris woke up, hands tied together behind his back. He looked around and saw he was in the DX locker room, laying on the bench. Hunter, Shawn, Matt, and Dolph were all watching him, and he smiled when he saw Matt, thinking about coaxing kisses out of the very sour looking face.

Matt moved behind Hunter, once again uncomfortable under Chris' eyes. Hunter looked at Chris before saying, "What in the name of half priced hot dogs is wrong with you?" Chris fought against his binds, trying to get to Matt.

"Chris!" Shawn said, trying to get him to answer Hunter's question, snapping his fingers, "Chris!" Suddenly, when looking down, their question was answered- Chris was sporting an erection. "Oh, ew," Shawn said.

"Don't you have a wife?" Dolph asked. Chris just looked in Matt's direction with pleading eyes. Matt stepped further behind Hunter, not willing to look at Chris.

"Chris, we have a job," Hunter said, "You can't do this shit now. Steph's trying to cover for you, but they're still expecting Chris vs. Shawn."

Chris was quiet for a little, but then he said, "Matt- touch me."

"Fuck no!" Matt yelled, making sure Hunter's body completely hid him.

Chris just snickered. "Sweet little firecracker." Matt's face turned red, and he wished he'd disappear- hopefully to a place where they shot horny blond Canadians on sight.

"If Matt touches you," Shawn said, "Will you come out and do your job?"

"What?" Dolph shouted. Matt was too shocked to say anything, unable to believe Shawn sold him out.

"Oh yes... please... Matt, it doesn't have to be sexual... oh fuck, touch me..."

"No," Matt said, still behind Hunter, "Chris, you're married. You're straight. Think about what you're doing."

"We don't have time for this." Hunter grabbed Matt's arm and began dragging him to Chris. Matt struggled, but Hunter was bigger than him, stronger. Hunter pushed Matt forward and said, "Just touch his face and get it over with."

"I just have to touch his face?" Matt asked, feeling queasy when looking at the hungry expression that marred Chris' features.

"Yep, do it." Matt gulped before pushing his fingers against Chris' face, somehow eliciting a moan from him. Suddenly, before Matt knew it, his back was against the bench, and Chris was straddling him.

"Someone should learn how to tie knots," Chris said lovingly, fingers tracing Matt's cheekbones. Hunter and Dolph both glared at Shawn, who just shrugged. "I thought the bunny ears would be enough."

"If you were tying shoes!" Matt shouted, feeling Chris' erection straining against his chest. In no time, Matt's hands were tied up, and he didn't even remember Chris grabbing them. "That's how you tie a knot," Chris said, going back to groping Matt's face.

"Somebody help me!" Matt shouted. Dolph tried to step forward, but Chris snarled in warning. "MINE! Don't you dare come near!" Dolph stepped back, afraid. Matt's eyes widened and he began bucking wildly, trying to get Chris off of him, but it just made friction that made Chris groan loudly. Matt stopped when he felt Chris' cock twitch against his belly.

"Okay, I don't want to see Chris cum," Shawn finally said, "Today's a bust. Forget the match; let's get hot wings." Hunter nodded, and Dolph, still scarred by the whole thing, began following them.

"Wait!" Matt shouted, getting frantic, "Please, help me..."

"Shh," Chris said, pressing his lips against Matt's forehead. "I'll take care of you. Let me have you. I've been meaning to show you how much I love those tights of yours." Matt responded by screaming for help and trying to wiggle away.

"What the hell made Chris snap like that?" Hunter asked, as they left the room.

"Probably head overload from the hair gel," Shawn answered. He snickered and hit Dolph playfully. "Maybe you should lay off, Nicky."

Hunter stopped, his eyes turning red. Shawn and Dolph stared at him, wondering what was going on. Then, Hunter said, in a robotic voice, "MUST DESTROY SPIRIT SQUAD!" He went towards Dolph, who ran away, squealing like a baby pig. Shawn hit his head; he forgot Hunter had that program in him that made him attack spirit squad members when he heard their names. Poor Kenny Dykstra; he didn't stand a chance.

"It's just another day in the WWE," Shawn said, deciding to get the hot wings on his own.

*************

Bret Hart stroked his lonely guy cat, Mr. Tibbles, as he gritted his teeth. Chris was supposed to see Shawn first and attack him, but of course Shawn was too lazy to do anything himself. Stupid Sparklepyre; he spent good money on that lust glitter too. He shook his head, biding away the thoughts of failure. One day, he'd make Shawn pay for all he did to him. Someday.

"Meow." Bret smiled and nuzzled his cat. "That's right, Mr. Tibbles, we're going to get that stupid Texan," he said, in a cooing baby voice, "Yes we are. Yes we are."

Mr. Tibbles just meowed in reply.

**Reviews Deeply Appreciated...**


	2. Of Vipers, Skunks, and Wabbits

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own the following wrestlers, or any of the events that actually happened on camera, or anything recognizable.**

**I respect the actual beliefs and sexualities of the following wrestlers.**

**Thought this would be a one shot, but I got inspired again. There might be another one. Sigh... well, there's references to Pepe Le Pew, Bugs Bunny, and other randomness. Just enjoy it, and don't think too hard, or you'll hurt yourself.**

* * *

**Just Another Day: Of Vipers, Skunks, and Wabbits**

Bret stroked Mr. Tibbles slowly, the white cat purring and snuggling closer to his master. His eyes were on the three people in front of him, each dressed in pink and black clothing, the very colors that marked his glory days. Glory days that were ruined by one Shawn Michaels.

He had to hold himself back from hurting Mr. Tibbles after that errant thought. Shawn Michaels was the bane of his existence. The diva floundered around, acting like he was something impressive, all because he trounced on Bret Hart's very legacy. And it would hurt enough if his legacy was buried by a great, respectable contender, but it hurt even more that the person who buried his legacy used his name to sell stupid glow sticks and various other merchandise!

But he was going to get the degenerate dickwad this time. His previous plan might have been a bust, but Bret's new plan was completely foolproof.

"Um, excuse me, Uncle Bret?" Bret gave attention to his niece and his new henchman- erm, woman-, Natalya.

"Yes?"

"I have a question."

"Fire away, darling."

"Why don't we just beat up Michaels?" she asked, "I mean, why do we need-" she picked up the bag that held the equipment Bret gave her and his other henchmen, Tyson Kidd and David Hart Smith, to implement the plan. "-all this junk when we could just all attack him on his way back home or something?"

Bret glared at Natalya. "Nattie darling, you fail to grasp the true meaning of revenge. Beating up the Harping Bitch Kid and getting blamed for it would bring me no pleasure. I will not be made to look like the bad guy, especially since the guy's found religion or some shit like that. If I beat him up and he looks like the good guy, it might just give _him _pleasure."

"Um, ew, Uncle Bret," David said, putting his hands over his eyes, as if Shawn Michaels taking part in a sadomasochistic sex debacle was happening right in front of him, "You didn't need to say that."

"Grow up, Tyson."

"I'm Tyson," Tyson said, raising his hand.

"And I want SILENCE!" Bret screeched. Mr. Tibbles made a loud sound and leaped off of Bret's lap, running off to escape. Bret stood up, his face immediately falling and becoming apologetic. "Wait, Mr. Tibbles, Daddy's sorry..."

"Uncle Bret!" Natalya said, "Don't you think your revenge on Shawn Michaels is a little more important than the cat's feelings?"

"Watch your tongue, Nattie dear," Bret snapped. He looked at the three members of the Hart Dynasty carefully. "I'm trusting you with my most cherished goal. Failure is not an option. Just deliver this, and follow orders to a T, and all will go well."

"Alright," Natalya said, while the boys nodded. But something in Natalya told her that this wasn't going to work at all.

* * *

Randy Orton and the other members of Legacy, whom he not so affectionately called the retarded ass monkeys, were getting ready to squash Kofi Kingston. Sometimes Randy wondered why he associated with them. Cody Rhodes was a human target, always finding ways to get beaten up by anyone that attacked them. Cody's greatest use was human shield; he had little in the way of brainpower, and his conversational skills were equal to that of a monkey on a tricycle.

Ted DiBiase, on the other hand, had no idea what class meant. He liked quoting his father, as if anyone in the room cared what the Million Dollar Man thought about them eating Pizza bagels. And if something was against the code of Ted DiBiase Sr, then Ted would not allow them to do it. Just when Randy was about to kill him, he remembered that having retarded ass monkeys by his side to take the beating from him had it's perks.

Randy went to the shower and reached into his bag for the Baby Oil. It was well known that a member of Legacy did not bathe with water, but with Baby Oil, and lots of it. Randy kept reaching inside, but he couldn't feel anything. Angrily, he grabbbed the bag and poured it's contents on the floor, searching for the Baby Oil. But there was none.

"Asstards! Front and center!" Orton hollered. Ted and Cody ran over as fast as possible, Cody nearly tripping over his girly ankles. They stood up in front of him and Orton crossed his arms, glaring at them. "Where the fuck is my baby oil?"

Cody looked at Ted, shrugging. Ted said, "Well, boss, my father says-"

"I DON'T CARE WHAT YOUR FATHER SAYS! WHERE IS MY DAMN BABY OIL?" Randy hollered.

"Well, see, boss, what had happened was- well- Ted wasted it!" Cody cried out, pointing at Ted.

"My Dad says that snitches should be locked up," Ted said angrily.

"You wasted my baby oil?"

"I needed some!" Ted said, "How else could I anoint myself like a true member of the Legacy? You have to understand."

"I NEED MY DAMN BABY OIL!"

"One moment!" Ted shouted, "My Dad says, if you're missing something, you should buy more of it!"

"Then get me my damned baby oil," Randy said, crossing his arms, "Get it to me and get it to me now!" There was a knock on the door, and Randy said, "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?"

"Uh, Orton? We have a gift for you." Randy squinted; that was Tyson's voice. Tyson Kidd didn't get on his nerves like most of the locker room shitlards. He walked to the door, pushing Cody out of way and watching the asstard fall to his ass, and he opened it, seeing all three members of the Hart Dynasty in front of him.

"WHAT- do- you- want?" Randy asked, pronuncing each word, venom dripping off his lips.

Tyson blanched, so Natalya took over, channeling her inner Jack Swagger. "Well see, Randy, we really respect you," Natalya said, "We think you're the greatest thing to happen to the WWE, and people are really trying to keep you from shining."

Randy grinned; his Viper ego loved being stroked. In fact, he enjoyed hearing people sing his praises way more than he liked having sex with his wife. The last time he orgasmed, his wife whispered how awesome he was in his ear. "You said you had a gift for me?"

Natalya smiled. "David?" David held out a bag, and Natalya said, "We think that you could always use more of this."

Randy took the bag and peered into it, his grin growing at the sight of the Baby Oil. Just when he needed it. Maybe he needed to switch the asstard monkeys for these guys. "Thank you," he said, before closing the door in their faces.

"Arrogant jackass," Natalya said under her breath. It didn't matter. Soon, Randy would be anything but an arrogant jackass. Natalya pulled out a helmet from her purse and put it on, waiting to feel the machine come to life and tell her that she could control Randy Orton.

******************

On the other hand, Bret Hart's last attempt on Shawn Michaels was still backfiring on Matt Hardy.

Matt was wearing a blond wig and some of Edge's clothes that he got from the back. While he didn't look like Edge, it was enough to help him hide from Chris Jericho. Matt shivered, thinking about how Chris kept attacking him. Could it be considered attacked? After all, he never hurt Matt. He just-

__

"Matty please," Chris breathed, "Please." Matt kept wiggling, trying to get out of under him, but Chris' knees were biting into his back, making it hard for him to move. "Just once."

Matt was now considered insane Chris' property by the entire roster. Matt remembered his match with Primo Colon. Matt was even winning, but one loose punch from Primo called Chris out, and Chris beat Primo up with a blow up Palm Tree while Matt made his escape. He felt bad for leaving Primo behind, but he knew what would happen as soon as Primo was a goner: Chris would come after him.

Vince tried to keep Chris away from Matt, but Chris did things that made Vince give up. Matt didn't know what he did to Vince, but Vince's retarded giraffe walk suddenly became a normal person walk. Matt didn't know Vince's legs could even be next to each other anymore, but apparently, Chris did it.

Matt was afraid. It was going to happen. These last second escapes wouldn't get him through forever. Chris was going to get him. _Please... please God, please keep horny blond Canadians away from me. Vince'll push me further off the card at this rate. Please, PLEASE keep Chris away from me._

"Matt, you look like a total fag." Matt turned around and saw Dolph behind him, looking more smug than he had a right to.

"And you look like a douche, _Nicky_," Matt spat. Dolph's eyes widened and looked around, searching for any sign of Triple H, who apparently goes Terminator whenever he heard one of the Spirit Squad member's name spoken.

"Stop it!" Dolph said, "My name is Dolph."

"And I'm Adam, so keep your trap shut." Matt began looking around for Chris, and he said, "What do you say we look out for each other? You protect me, I protect you."

"Sounds good." Dolph sat next to him and said, "Um, I'm sorry we ditched you last time-"

"Shut up."

"But I-"

"Please don't remind me you ditched me to get hot wings, leaving me at the mercy of a psychopathic, deranged maniac whose plans for me include putting things where they don't belong," Matt said. Dolph wanted to keep quiet, but then he said, "He hasn't succeeded yet?"

Matt rolled his eyes. "No, he hasn't. And hopefully, it'll stay that way. I'm still a virgin in that sense, thank you very much."

"You're still a virgin in every sense."

Matt slapped Dolph's head, making Dolph shout "Ow!" and hold his head in his hands. "Why did you do that?" Dolph asked, pouting.

"If I were you, I'd watch my tongue, _Nicky_," Matt hissed.

"Okay, okay!" Dolph said, "Just keep quiet, okay?"

"Okay." Matt stood up and double checked the halls. "Let's go. Hopefully, we can get through this day in one piece."

*****************

Shawn whistled, walking through the WWE event. He was munching on a Churro he stole from Carlito; it wasn't like the jobber needed it anyway. A shoulder pushed into his, and he turned around and saw the Hart dynasty. "Eh, what's up, doc?" He said, chewing the Churro.

"Excuse me?" Natalya said, flush creeping into her cheeks. David held her back as she went forward, ready to attack.

"Whoa there missy!" Shawn caught sight of the helmet on her head, and he snickered. "What, waiting for the short bus cutie pie?" Natalya was about to rip out of David's hands when Shawn leaned forward, pushing their lips together. Natalya froze and Shawn slapped her on the head, laughing before running away.

"I'm a stinker, ain't I?" He asked no one in particular before taking another bite of the Churro. "Yummy."

Natalya stared after him, her cheeks burning as she thought about ripping him to shreds. "Let me at him!" Natalya shouted, trying to pull out of David's arms.

"Whoa Nattie!" Tyson said, putting his hands on her shoulders, "Remember what Bret said. It has to be this way. It can't be linked back to us."

"I don't care! Let me at him!" Natalya shrieked.

"Excuse me." Tyson, David, and Natalya turned and saw Chris Jericho, wearing only his pinstripe pants and his wrestling boots. His chest was bare, and the look was completely ridiculous. "Have you seen Matt?"

"Excuse me?" Natalya said.

"Matt. Matt Hardy. Extremely adorable, brown hair, brown eyes, about ye high- have you seen him?"

"No," Tyson said, "Why would I-" David slapped his hand in front of Tyson's mouth; apparently, the man with only a crown of hair thought it prudent to diss Matt in front of his certified stalker.

"Liars. LIARS!" Chris grabbed Tyson by the collar and said, "I know this is just a conspiracy to keep me from my one true love, and I will not have it. You can't stop me from stoking the furnace of love with Matt, so stop trying and tell me where you hid him!"

"I don't know... where- he- is" Tyson spat out, trying to breathe. Chris said oh and dropped him, not caring that Tyson hit the floor bottom first.

"If you see him, I'm looking for him," Chris said, "Tell me, okay?" They nodded, and Chris walked away, looking for Matt. He didn't even question that his thoughts were suddenly occupied by the dark haired Southerner; it was as if his heart always belonged to Matt. Chris no longer cared about eating, his job, his family, anything- all he knew was that he had to have Matt. "I pierce you with the ack-ack of love, flowerpot," Chris said under his breath, thinking about piercing Matt with his ack ack of love.

* * *

The first lines of 'Voices' blared through the arena and Randy Orton, flanked by his flaming asstard monkey goons, walked to the ring, malicious intent in his eyes. Kofi, for his part, looked ready to fight, which made Orton chuckle inside. This was the man who was Jamacian until a few months ago. He and the flunkies should have no problem.

"Ted," Cody hissed, "Why didn't you wear our thingy?" He pulled on his shirt, obviously meaning 'shirt' when he said thingy.

"What?"

"You don't match. We're all wearing our thingys except you."

"Well, my Dad says-"

"Shut up you asstards and look menacing," Randy snapped. Cody and Ted shut up, instead glaring at Kofi. Randy was about to climb into the ring when suddenly-

****

DO AS I SAY. I AM YOUR MASTER. YOU MUST ATTACK SHAWN MICHAELS. NOW. DO AS I SAY.

Randy's eyes turned dull, and he turned around, listening to the voice. Ted and Cody were too busy beating up Kofi to notice their boss was leaving, and Kofi was too busy trying to figure out where Randy was going to defend himself. In a matter of moments, they beat poor Kofi up so badly that the Jamaican accent was actually real.

Randy's mind was a complete blank; all he could think of was to follow the order. He looked around for Shawn Michaels, quickly charging through the halls. He turned a corner and found himself face to face with Alicia Fox. She grinned and said, "Excuse me, how do you like my new-" Randy grabbed her and flung her out of the way, making her scream as she hit the floor.

"Must attack Michaels," he said, his voice giving away his zombie-like state. He kept walking forward, and Alicia stood up, crossing her arms and pouting.

"HOW RUDE!"

* * *

Tyson, David, and Natalya followed Shawn as inconspicuously, wondering what was taking Orton so long to jump Shawn. _He's right there! _Natalya cried out mentally, hoping her new meat puppet got the memo. _Go get him! _But then, David said, "Uh, Nattie?"

"What?" she snapped.

"What if Orton doesn't know where Shawn is?"

Natalya slapped her head; she hadn't thought of that one. "Alright, where are we?"

"Between a box and a wall-"

"No you fucking dingbat!" Natalya hissed, "I mean, specifically, if I was telling someone to find us, where are we?"

"Oh, sorry." David crossed his arms, looking sad, and Natalya said, "Oh grow up!"

"We're in hallway E, Nattie," Tyson said.

"Thank you _Tyson_." The way she said Tyson just rang 'not David'. She thought the location to Orton, and then she said, "Victory shall be ours."

* * *

"Hey Dolph! Whose your friend?" Dolph blanched; he knew that jovial yet threatening voice anywhere. He grabbed Matt's arm and said, "Protect me!"

"Dolph, you'll be fine so long as no one says _that name_," Matt said. Hunter slapped his hands on Matt and Dolph's shoulders, and he said, "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend, Ziggles?"

"Fuck off, Hunter."

Hunter's eyes widened. "Well, if that isn't the dulcet tones of one Matthew Moore?" He turned Matt around. "It is you! What's with the get up?"

"It's called Matt-no-want-to-get-raped," Matt said, "No get off, Hunter."

"Are you still mad we left you to Chris' mercy?" Hunter asked, "Come on, Matts, everyone's leaving you to his mercy."

"Some friend you turned out to be," Matt said. Suddenly, Randy walked in front of them, shoving Matt and Dolph aside, and bulldozing past Triple H. They all lay stunned on the floor until Hunter said, "Oh no that bitch didn't." He stood up and went after Randy, leaving Matt and Dolph, Matt's wig askew and covering his eyes.

"Hey Dolph, have you seen Matt?" Matt's heart stopped- to make matters worse, Chris found him. He remained quiet under the wig, hoping that he'll be safe under it.

"Um... no, Chris, I haven't."

"You don't sound sure. You know where my baby is, don't you?" Chris grabbed Dolph by the collar and lifted him up. "Where is he? I'll beat you and your little blond friend if I have to! You can't block love! Now, where is he?"

Dolph started panicking and he said, "Matt's there! On the floor! Let me go!" Matt's blood ran cold, unable to believe Dolph sold him out again. _I'll protect you if you protect me my ass_. Chris let go of Dolph and turned around, looking at the body whose face was covered by blonde hair, curiously studying it. Matt decided to follow the rules for if a bear attacks; don't move, and he might leave. Chris stalked closer, noticing that the body matched Matt's perfectly. The blond hair was the only oddity.

"My love?" Chris asked hopefully, bending over Matt. Matt couldn't take it anymore, knowing that Chris was inches from him. He used his legs to kick Chris and, while he groaned, Matt ran. As he put as much space between himself and Chris Jericho as possible, he made a mental note to kill Dolph later. And maybe to invest in a private island where they shot horny blond Canadians on sight. "Matt!" Chris shouted, his joy apparent through his pain, "You are the corned beef to me, and I am the cabbage to you!"

"What does that mean?!" Dolph asked.

"Shut up, douchebag!" Chris stood up and began running in the direction Matt ran in. "Come back! The corned beef does not run away from the cabbage!" Dolph stared after them, mouth open in horror.

"Maybe I should quit while I'm still alive and moderately attractive."

*************

Hunter reached into his waistband and pulled out a hammer, not questioning how sledgehammers kept appearing in his pants, even after he pulled one out and lost it. His endless supply of sledgeys just made chasing thunder-thigh butterfaces like Orton easier. He turned a corner and stopped, seeing Orton go closer to his partner.

"What's up Orangey?" Shawn said, chewing on the Churro. Randy snatched the sugary treat and snapped it before throwing it behind him. "Hey, that was my Churro!"

"Must attack Michaels," Orton said, reaching for Shawn. Shawn stepped back, trying to escape, and Hunter knew what he had to do.

__

First he tramples me, and then he attacks one of the women that mean the most to me in this world, second only to my daughters?

Hunter wasn't even thinking of his wife. _Orton must die!_

Hunter swung the hammer and threw it. Shawn squeaked and ducked, alerting Randy to the sledgehammer's presence. Randy moved out of the way at the last minute, and the hammer flew behind some boxes, crashing into a helmet.

Natalya screamed as she felt an electrifying sensation, shaking from the shock waves sent through to her body. Randy froze, unable to think of anything to do but scream as well, letting out a high pitched, girly wail.

"SHUT UP!" Shawn shouted. Randy's mouth closed immediately, cutting off in mid-squeal. Hunter went forward, looking over Randy's immobile body.

"Did Orton just do as he was told?" Shawn asked. Hunter nodded, still staring at Randy.

"Shove your fist in your mouth," Hunter ordered. Randy did as he was told, and Hunter and Shawn both began laughing.

"This is so fucking sweet!" Shawn said, "Stand on one foot." Randy did as he was told, and they laughed again. "Now hit yourself repeatedly- but stay on one foot!" Shawn ordered. Randy did it, slapping himself while he stood on one foot, and Hunter and Shawn shared a look, grinning wildly. They were going to have fun tonight.

Natalya, meanwhile, was being carried to a doctor by David. She was groggy and had no idea where she was. She only knew one thing; she was never going to help Uncle Bret again.

*****************

Bret stroked Mr. Tibbles angrily. Now, his hypno-oil was backfiring against him too, being used for the two stupid degenerates' amusement! And to cap it off, his henchmen weren't answering their phones. He gritted his teeth, thinking about what had happened the past two plots. He recently got a call from Vince, offering to allow him to guest host Monday Night RAW. Well, maybe it was time he took him up on that offer.

"I'm going to get you, Shawn Michaels," Bret vowed, "I swear, I'll get you." Mr. Tibbles mewed and nipped Bret lightly. "What is it, Mr. Tibbles?" Bret said, cooing at his cat. "Are you hungry? Let me get you some kitty kibble, okay?" Bret lifted the cat lightly and brought him to the kitchen, and Mr. Tibbles purred victoriously. His master may have lost, but as long as there was kibble, Mr. Tibbles would always win.


End file.
